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02:29 pm: I Has a Sweet Potato
You know, a lot of times I write up random posts and then don't post them. But Best Beloved just called me, and I could not really explain why I was inarticulate about sweet potatoes, so I said I'd go ahead and post this. That way, she can read it at work and know just what kind of day it has been. (Short version, for those who do not feel like reading the whole post: ARRRRRRG. Fucking sweet potatoes.)

The longer version, summarized in conversation form:

Dog: I am starving.
Me: Actually, no. You aren't starving. You get two very good meals a day. And treats. And Best Beloved fed you extra food while I was gone.
Me: I saw you get fed not four hours ago! You are not starving.
Dog: Pity me, a sad and tragic creature, for I can barely walk, I am so starving. WOE.
Me: I am now ignoring you.
Dog: Did you hear me? I am starving.
Dog: Are you seriously ignoring me? Fine.

[There is a pause, during which the dog exits the room in a pointed manner.]

[From the kitchen, there comes a noise like someone is eating a baseball bat.]

Me, yelling: What the hell are you doing?
Me: *makes haste for the kitchen and finds dog there*
Dog: *picks up entire raw sweet potato, which is what was causing the baseball bat noise, and flees for the bedroom*
Me: *chases dog, retrieves most of sweet potato, less the portion which has disappeared into dog's gullet*
Me: ...That can't be good for you. It's a RAW SWEET POTATO.
Dog: I had to do it. I haven't been fed. Ever.
Me: You realize you aren't normal. Normal dogs don't steal raw sweet potatoes.
Dog, sadly: I was badly brought up.
Me: Yes. Yes, you were.
Dog: By people who starved me.
Me: Oh, no. I am not doing this again.
Me: *exits the room, bearing sweet potato*

[There is a pause.]

[There is a noise like someone is trying to eat a baseball bat very very quietly.]

Me: Oh, for the love of GOD.
Me: *heads off to the kitchen*
Dog: I am not eating a raw sweet potato.
Me: You have sweet potato parts all over your snout.
Dog: But you don't actually SEE a raw sweet potato, do you? So maybe that's just - um. A birthmark.
Me: Did you seriously eat a whole sweet potato?
Dog: You don't listen. I told you, I wasn't eating a sweet potato.
Me, searching around fruitlessly: Look. NO MORE SWEET POTATOES.
Me: Oh, what am I saying? This is you we're talking about, here. *goes to hide all the sweet potatoes that are left - which isn't many - in the fridge, because some people cannot be trusted*
Dog: *attempts to look thwarted*
Dog: *does not succeed, because her tail is wagging so hard small cyclones are forming in the kitchen*
Me: *has a very bad feeling about this*

[There is a pause, during which I do not even bother trying to return to what I was doing. I just stand in the computer room, waiting.]

[There is, as I wholly expected, a baseball-bat-eating noise.]

Me, stomping back to the kitchen: OKAY. GIVE ME THE DAMNED SWEET POTATO.
Dog, looking up guiltily: What sweet potato?
Dog: Oh, did you want this? I just, um. Found it. Lying here.
Me: *confiscates the sweet potato and deposits it in the locking trashcan*
Me: Let us say no more about this.
Dog: ...Nooooo! They be stealin' my sweet potato!

[I attempt to remember what I was doing before the sweet potato episode.]

[Some ten minutes later, I succeed, and return to it.]

[NOT ONE MINUTE LATER, I hear a noise with which I have become all too familiar.]

Me, bonking head on desk: Arg.
Me, arriving in kitchen: How did you even get another sweet potato?
Dog, smugly: I have my ways.
Me: Are you punishing me for being away for several days? I was at a FUNERAL, you know. It wasn't FUN.
Dog: How would I know? You didn't take me. You left me here with only one human to look after my needs. One human is NOT ENOUGH.
Me: *shuts dog in bedroom, conducts a sweep of the kitchen to track down all remaining sweet potatoes, wipes up random sweet potato particles from floor, eradicates all traces of sweet potato from house*
Me: *lets dog out*
Dog, sulkily: Oh, so you think you've won.

[I watch her go about her business with the same sense of overwhelming doom that heroines of Victorian novels get when they meet Count Sinistrus Grimblack for the first time.]

[Half an hour later, there is a wetter, juicier eating noise, as though someone was eating a very moist baseball bat.]

Me, wearily: What NOW?
Dog, hunched over the remains of a butternut squash: *says something garbled because her mouth is full*
Me: Okay. Fine.
Me: *stomps over, empties entire vegetable bowl into trash*
Dog: I'm not even remotely sorry. I told you I was hungry. And you went to a funeral without me.

[A half-hour later, there is another baseball-bat-eating noise from the kitchen. The dog, who apparently does not know how to win gracefully, has found another sweet potato, or possibly caused one to materialize from the Rift.]

Me, hauling chewed sweet potato parts from the mouth of a dog very reluctant to part with them: Oh my god how is this my life?
Dog: Don't you think it would just be easier to feed me?
Dog: Actually, I feel...um...not so good.
Dog: *throws up* *vomit is very bright orange*

[Unfortunate details ensue.]

Some time later:
Me, attempting to rescue something from the wreckage: So. What have we learned from this?
Dog: Sweet potatoes are yummy!
Other Dog, looking thoughtful: I should pay more attention to crunching noises. Sweet potatoes are probably yummy.
Me: I need a lobotomy.

And that, Best Beloved - and anyone else who made it through that - is What Kind of Day It Has Been.


[ETA 6/22/2007: Hi! I can't reply to comments on this entry any more; I'm reading them all, and loving them, but responding is beyond me. So:

If you'd like to link people here, feel free.

If you'd like to leave a comment, please do. They make me happy.

If you'd like to repost or use this elsewhere, please don't; I'd prefer you to link. And no commercial use of my work without my permission, please.

If you see this reposted or used elsewhere, I'd very much appreciate a comment or email - thefourthvine at livejournal dot com - to let me know where.

Thank you for reading!

...And, yes, she has had more sweet potato; I gave it to her when the comments on this hit the tenth page. I figured she'd earned it.]


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Date:January 17th, 2008 04:50 am (UTC)

I has Sweet potato posted elsewhere

Excerpt of 'I has Sweet potato' posted at site below, halfway or so down page

Date:January 17th, 2008 11:51 am (UTC)
After having one of the worst days possible, a dear friend sent me the link to this posting. Thanks to you, your dog and said friend, my horrific day ended in laughter.

Date:January 18th, 2008 01:25 am (UTC)

could've been mine

I have the same discussion with my Corgi every single freakin day. In fact, I found your site when I googled "my dog ate a sweet potato" out of fear after I just ripped a sweet potato from her clutches. And, it's my own darn fault because I was the one who dropped a sweet potato chunk on the floor and let little miss hoover grab it. Of course, I didn't tell her it was OK to spin the lazy susan-type-cabinet around and get another one.

In the past, she has eaten a full pack of birth control pills, a bottle of zinc losenges (plastic too), jumped in the tub and eaten a bar of soap, any foodstuff that falls on the floor, birdseed, "herbal essences" conditioner if I forget to close the shower door, "road kill grill meat rub" and - the best - jumped onto my dining room chair, then to the dining room table, then to the kitchen counter, walked around the kitchen counter (including through the sink) and got a block of cocoa and tea bags off the TOP OF THE FRIDGE.
So far, the only thing I've seen her turn her nose up at is ... celery.

She has somehow made it to 14.
Date:January 22nd, 2008 12:39 am (UTC)

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Date:January 25th, 2008 03:16 pm (UTC)

I linked you from my blog.
[User Picture]
Date:January 27th, 2008 10:37 pm (UTC)
the dog exits the room in a pointed manner

I've seen one do it. It's just so dignified, yet... doggone funny.
Date:February 1st, 2008 12:30 am (UTC)
This made my year. Funnier than the "Dog in Elk" story on the web. You can google "dog in elk" and see the story. Hilarious.
Date:February 3rd, 2008 08:46 am (UTC)

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[User Picture]
Date:February 3rd, 2008 10:54 pm (UTC)
*wipes tears of laughter from eyes*

That was brilliant. :-)
Date:February 5th, 2008 06:55 am (UTC)

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[User Picture]
Date:February 6th, 2008 12:32 am (UTC)
I don't know if you can stand another comment, but oh. my. god. This is absolutely hilarious. Reminds me of my cat--only she doesn't eat sweet potatoes, she eats potted plants. Or silk plants. Or green jumpers that could possibly, in some bizarre corner of feline logic, look vaguely like they could be thinking about resembling some extinct form of vegetation.

I'm STILL sporfling over your entry, and I've recced it on my LJ. :) Thanks for posting!
[User Picture]
Date:February 6th, 2008 01:32 am (UTC)
Thank you SO much for reccing this.
[User Picture]
Date:February 6th, 2008 01:30 am (UTC)
Oh good lord. As a former doggie owner, I know how 'special' their dietary needs are and how picky they can be.

Oh goodness, my sides are hurting from the laughter.
[User Picture]
Date:February 6th, 2008 04:36 am (UTC)
... from beyond the Rift!


[User Picture]
Date:February 6th, 2008 01:42 pm (UTC)
Bwahahahahahahahahahah! And stuff.

Had I actually the behaviour of the very large dog owned by a relative of mine who ate an entire pan of pot brownies, that might have been a funnier story... But probably not.
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